


City of Sorrow

by Sophia_Bee



Series: Paris Series [1]
Category: Gossip Girl
Genre: Angst, Dan Was Never Gossip Girl, F/M, Infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-09
Updated: 2014-09-11
Packaged: 2018-02-16 17:56:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2279253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sophia_Bee/pseuds/Sophia_Bee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>15 years after they break up Blair runs into Dan in Paris in the rain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Blair

**Author's Note:**

> I want to be very clear that this piece involves infidelity in case that is a trigger.

Paris used to be her city, the place she came to be happy and young, wearing beautiful clothes, visiting to museums, attending parties and having fleeting romances in the city of lights. It’s become the city of sorrow for Blair, the place she escapes to when the melancholy threatens to seep too far into her bones, the place that welcomes her sorrow. 

Paris is the only place Blair can cry. 

Something about the way it smells the first time it rains after a series of hot days, a dirty, dusty smell that Blair Waldorf would never associate with beauty, but now it speaks to her of the end of summer in the City of Lights. She’d never noticed it before. Not until the day she stood in the rain, in Paris, an annoying cliche far beneath Blair Waldorf, her hair plastered against her head because she’d run out into the downpour without her umbrella, her coffee half-drunk on the small table.

*-*-*

It had been sunny earlier that day as she pushed her shoulder against the door of the apartment she kept, the door creaking a little from disuse, pulling her one carry on bag behind her as she looked around the apartment that had been left unused for the last few months. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows and dust floated in the air, and normally Blair would have called ahead and had someone freshen things for her, but she’d just decided to return to Paris that morning and had been travelling all day. 

It had been a quick decision, but an easy one, after running into Serena for the first time in years, coming out of Barney’s, bags on her wrists, a genuine smile plastered across her face, almost like it was yesterday. She was still shining and golden after all this time and Blair felt her nails dig into her palm as she met that smile with one of her own, practiced, perfect, shiny and friendly. 

She’d gotten even better at faking it over the years. 

They exchanged surprised pleasantries. Serena could believe they’d just run into each other after all these years, laughing at the absurdity of it as threw back her head a little, tossing her hair over her shoulder. Serena asked about Chuck, Blair said his business had him out of town. And Henry. Boarding school, Blair replied, trying to keep the sadness out of her eyes. 

Serena barely looked much older than when they’d been best friends years ago. The California sun had left little wrinkles around her eyes but she was still as bubbly and carried the same skin-deep patina of earnestness she’d honed to a craft. She put her hand on Blair’s coat sleeve, told her enthusiastically about her life. The kids were still in Malibu, Serena said, but Dan would be meeting her in a few days and Blair would never guess what was going to be happening. They would be moving back to the city soon. Blair’s mouth went dry. 

Dan would be returning to New York. 

She booked her plane ticket that for that night. Red eye. Leaving in a few hours. 

There was a time when arriving in Paris would have meant staff and suitcases, Blair in command of an entourage that would provide every comfort, but this was not a pleasure trip. This was an escape, scurrying out of the city in the middle of the night, and Blair had packed her own carry-on and told Dorota she would buy anything else she needed, ignoring the worried look on her maid’s face. She called Henry and told him she loved him, and he’d asked her what was wrong and Blair had lied, telling she’d been planning on this trip but had forgotten to tell him. Then she had spent the hours of the transatlantic flight staring out the window into pitch blackness, crying. 

The sun has slipped away but Blair still hasn’t flicked on the lights and the high-ceilinged rooms are gray in the moonlight. She doesn’t want to sleep that night. Just sits in the apartment in one of the overstuffed chairs by the windows, staring out across the city until her eyes droop and her head tilts forward and she wakes up to find herself slumped in that same chair, a thin line of drool crusted down her cheek, skin cold from the chill that comes just before the sun creeps up from the horizon. The sadness is so intense it threatens to swallow her and she feels a tear leak down her cheek. 

Her skin itches and she’s jumpy and unsettled, so despite the melancholy, Blair still manages to get up. For some reason she can’t stay there in the apartment, rattling around by herself, with only her thoughts to keep her company. She dresses quickly, every part of her body aching from sleeping in the chair overnight, washes her face in the basin the bathroom, splashing cold water in her skin, staring at her reflection in the mirror, noting the dark circles under her eyes and how haunted she looks. 

Haunted is the right word. Haunted by him. For the last seven years, ever since she realized what a mistake she’s made, she’s been seeing him. At the Met. Around the corner. Out of the corner of her eye, his figure, his shoulders, and she always turns, his name on her lips, and it’s never him. But now he’s moving back and she doesn’t know what she would do if those ghosts actually turn out to be real one day. How would she keep herself from falling apart? She could move, run away, live here in this small apartment, but she knows she won’t really get away from him. Even if she won’t run into him on the street, coffee in hand, scarf wrapped around his neck, eyes probing hers, she will see him in her dreams. 

She decides to go down the street to a little cafe that has good coffee and croissants, and just as she pushes the door of the apartment open to step into the hallway, the rain starts outside and Blair leans back in and grabs an umbrella from behind the door. She smiles unconsciously, a little upward turn at each corner of her mouth pulling at her strangely, because no matter what is happening in her life, she’s always loved Paris in the rain. And that is how she ends up sitting in a cafe, an untouched croissant on a plate, a cup of coffee half drunk when she sees him. 

She’s out the door before she can think, and the people around her must think she’s forgotten something important, the way she stands up and suddenly dashes out the door. Her feet are pounding the street, moving her forward as she chases another ghost. Another figment conjured by her imagination to further torture her, but this one looked so real. 

The rain has stopped pouring, making the streets shine and the sun also shines through the clouds in that curious way that late summer downpours present themselves, a summer storm feeling like a fragment of your imagination, and if you close your eyes for a few minutes you can pretend they never happened. It still sputters, not willing to be done quite yet. Blair felt the puddles splashing up the back of her legs as she runs after him, calling out his name, squinting in the brightness. 

“Dan!”

She’s breathing hard, her heart pounding, waiting for the tricks of her mind to reveal themselves when she realizes that the figure has stopped, his back still towards her, and Blair’s pace slows until she comes to a stop, and she stands there in the middle of Avenue De Something or Another, not even sure where she is, her chest rising up and down, her hands shaking, that damn rain pouring down with the strange sunshine lighting up all the raindrops, her hair in her face, her blouse plastered against her skin, soaking wet. She stares. 

Dan

Fifteen years. 

For a while she’d been happy. Blair had everything she thought wanted, and it had felt worth it, even if she’d paid a price for what she thought at the time was the truth and lost a friend. Life had gone on and Dan Humphrey had faded into the background, someone she heard about at parties. He’d married Serena. They were living in California. Chuck and Blair had a baby. Dan became someone who signed the card for the baby gift that arrived in that same awkward, stilted writing that had once left her love notes on the side table of her bedroom, and Blair had been able to remember him fondly. 

Until she couldn’t. 

It had only been a matter of time before all the lies she told herself unraveled. When they did, it hurt like nothing Blair had ever experienced. 

Chuck started to stay away longer. Business dinners turned into business trips. Blair hated their empty apartment, the way she rattled around it’s hugeness waiting for something but not knowing what. 

Henry grew from a colicky baby to a boy and then Chuck insisted he be sent to boarding school. They’d fought about that for two days until Chuck left to stay at the Waldorf Astoria and Blair spent every night drinking until she fell asleep on the couch, her eyes red from crying. Henry had left three weeks later. That was the moment the numbness started. 

Chuck told her he’d need to establish a home base in Dubai. The business was there. It would be easier than going back and forth all of the time. He was starting to hate the cold winters in New York. Blair had nodded, staring out the window at the magnificent view of the city their apartment afforded them, not being able to think of anything to say. She’d had fewer and fewer words since the argument about boarding school. 

Blair found a doctor who would give her a healthy dose of valium. 

And they went on. Day in and day out, year after year, until Blair had a hard time recognizing what her life had become. It was a lifetime away from what she’d imagined the day she’d picked Chuck over Dan. 

That was when the ghosts started. Figures at the edge of vision, a silhouette she thought she’d know anywhere, a scent, and she turns her head to find…Nothing. Over and over again. She thinks she sees him, smells him, hears him and nothing. Slowly she starts to realize that after all this time, she misses Dan Humphrey, aches for what she left behind. Part of her knows that he would have never moved half a world away from her, never have sent their son to boarding school, never would have stopped loving her the way Chuck seems to, and that’s when she understands that she had made the wrong choice. That’s when she understands that she’s loved a man besides her husband all along. 

It should go differently. A surprise meeting in the cafe, a friendly chat. How are the kids. What a pleasant surprise after all these years. But that’s a different scenario and she’s standing soaked and muddy in the middle of the street, yelling his name, her voice rough and pained, and it’s obvious that whatever happens next, this is not some casual chance meeting that will end with promises of coffee and everyone swearing they should see each other more often.

He turns now, because it’s been long enough that both of them know this is real, a crazy chance encounter, and some people are starting to stare, and she sees his back stiffen then he turns on his heel, slowly, his eyes boring into hers, and for the first time in fifteen years Blair Waldorf and Dan Humphrey are face to face. 

His hair is wet too, because who brings along their umbrella on a sunny summer day while strolling down a Paris street. He swallows and she sees his adams apple rise up and down. His hands are clenched at his side. Blair’s breath catches because so much about Dan is the same. His hair is still long, flopping a little over his forehead, its curls teasing the open collar of his shirt, his eyes burn with the same intensity, and he only pauses for a second that seems to stretch out into minutes, then starts to walk towards her, closing the distance between them, step by step. Blair is rooted to the street, not able to move, and he’s standing directly in front of her, lips parted, and he grinds out her name.

“Blair.”

Her eyes flutter shut as all the pain of the last fifteen years rushes in with the sound of her name on his lips. Before the sound of her name can even fade away, she speaks, words ripped from somewhere deep inside, words she’s barely even acknowledged despite the ghosts that seem to chase her, but as she spits them out she thinks they might be the truest things she’s ever said.

“I never should have let you go.”

Shock flickers through his eyes and they are standing inches from each other, gazes locked, chests rising up and down unison, and Blair feels that her lips are dry and parched. What she would give for a drink of water, except she can’t move, can’t speak because she is riveted by the intensity of the pain that flashes across Dan’s face. 

She wants to take her hands and fist them in his shirt, bury her face in his chest, let the tears that she’s been holding back flow, indistinguishable from the rain that has soaked them both, and sob everything that she’s been holding inside until the pain is gone and she can finally at least feel nothing. But instead she just stands there, waiting, tension between them thick, vibrating. She thinks she should worry about how he’ll take her words, about whether or not he’ll walk away, about what this means for her marriage, for his, but this is all so sudden that there’s no room for thought, only instinct and desire. 

“Blair”

This time her name is guttural and low and as he groans it in a way that that makes her heart jump, Dan leans in and captures her mouth in a kiss that is both brutal and desperate and maybe even a little loving, and in one swift movement their bodies crash together with sudden desperation, arms wrapping and pulling and tugging, fingers tangling, neither really clear where one ends and the other begins. 

The scent of the rain fills her nostrils, the smell of dirt, of raindrops hitting sun warmed pavement. 

He should pull away and ask her if this is okay, but he doesn’t have to because ever since the moment their eyes locked they both knew where this was going to end up. 

Dan is walking her backwards now, mouth not leaving hers, step by step, out of the street, until she feels the cold stone against the bare skin of her back, and Blair realizes that in the process of pushing her back he has also pulled her wet blouse from the waistband of her skirt and his fingers are skimming up the sides of her ribs, and she gasps against his lips.

“Please,” Blair begs, pushing herself against him. She wants him, to take away the last fifteen years and all the mistakes she has made, to make her feel so much that she can’t feel anything else but him, “Please,” she breathes again.

She can’t think. Beneath the haze of of desire, she’s afraid if she starts to think the world will come crashing in, and she might remember Chuck and Serena and what all this might mean in the cold light of the morning sun when she has to wake up to a world that hasn’t really changed. She just kisses him back again and again, trying to drive all thoughts out of her head. 

“Where can we go?” he gasps as he pulls slightly away from her, and Blair is surprised he can still form that much of a sentence. They’re both panting, but now there is space between them that makes Blair ache, then his fingers reach out to stroke her wrist lightly then his hand slides into hers, fingers intertwining, and his eyes are scanning her face. Blair closes the distance between them, her body pressing against his chest, wraps one arm around Dan’s waist and bends her neck to bury her face into his shoulder. “My apartment is around the corner,” she mumbles into the wet fabric of his shirt. “Please hurry.”

She feels like she is about to fly apart. 

They make it to her apartment, Blair’s arms wrapped around Dan’s waste, her heart beating so loudly she’s sure he can hear it, her face still buried in his shoulder, afraid that her knees might buckle from how much she wants him.

...this…

...them...

She wants to tell him how wrong she was. Wants to spill her soul, but instead she fumbles for her keys, unlocks the door as his hands creep under her shirt again, strong against her ribs, pushing her inside, and they managed to close the door just before his mouth devours hers again, harsh, tongue invading, hot and wet and so incredibly sweet that it aches to the point of pain. Her fingers tangle his hair, his hands are on her hips, pushing at her skirt, and they are almost naked by the time they tumble into the bed, Blair gasping, wide eyed as she stares up at him, legs spreading, wet and aching and he is fucking her, hips thrusting sharply, her name trailing off into a groan.

She’s saying his name, lips moving with silent words as everything tightens up, trying to tell him that this feels so good and it’s been too long and she’s dreamed of this, but instead she jerks as she comes, burying her face into his shoulder again, biting at his sweaty skin, and then she holds onto him and thinks she may never stop trembling. 

Blair might have wanted to talk after sex if things had been different, curling into him, watching his face, but her limbs are heavy, her body sated, and on the edges of her consciousness, somewhere past the feeling of Dan running his fingers across the curve of her hip, past the words he’s whispering into her ear, telling her how much he’s missed this, reality is lurking. Serena. Chuck. So instead Blair lets her eyes drift shut and lets herself sink into the darkness.

They sleep. 

Moonlight is streaming into the apartment when she wakes, and the first thing Blair notices is that she’s cold, reaching around for the down-filled duvet and pulling it up over her bare breasts. Her hand reaches out to feel for Dan and finds the other side of the bed is empty and for a moment Blair panics until her eyes adjust to the dim lighting and she sees he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, naked, head in his hands. 

Blair pushes the duvet back, cool air hitting her skin and she can feel goosebumps prickle up and down her arms. She crawls across the bed and leans her forehead against the bare skin of his back, feeling the way his back rises up and down with each breath. She reaches around his chest with her arms, clasping her hands together and his hands move from his face until they’re covering hers, warm and strong. Slowly, gently Blair pulls him back towards her until the length of his back is pressed against her bare breasts and his weight is resting on her.

“What have I done,” Dan whispers into the silence. 

That’s when Blair knows they are no longer alone. The ghosts are back, but this time they are Serena, Chuck, their children, all crowding into the room. She shivers. 

“We,” Blair whispers. “What have we done,” she places a soft kiss on his bare back and he flinches a little at the touch of her lips, “I’m here with you too.”

“I thought I was happy,” Dan whispers, twisting himself around, and Blair moves back to accommodate him until they are sitting facing each other, crosslegged, knees touching each other, her hands in his, as if they can’t bear not to be touching. “but when I heard you call my name, I knew that I haven’t been happy in a long time.”

“Me either,” Blair watches Dan, sees the guilt in his eyes.

“I have a wife, kids, a life…”

“Me too,”

“But now...now it seems like I have nothing if I don’t have you, but I can’t...I can’t.”

Blair’s heart clenches so tightly she thinks she could be having a heart attack. Every part of her body hurts and every part of her soul too. Blair lets go of one of Dan’s hands to wipe tears off her cheeks that she didn’t even know were flowing down her cheeks, and she finally finds her voice, the one that has been eluding her for the past fifteen years.

“I love you, you know.” she says quietly. “I dont think I ever stopped.”

“I love Serena.” Dan says quietly, his eyes somewhere else, “I can’t hurt her. We have a family, a life together. I love her,” he says again, “she’s just not...not you. Why should she pay for the mistakes we’ve made?”

Every word hurts, but she’d known from the moment their lips met that no matter how much she loved him it wouldn’t matter. They aren’t kids just past their teens anymore, they aren’t free to chase love. People will get hurt, people they love. 

He leans closer to her, staring at her lips and Blair starts to tremble. 

“But I never stopped loving you either.” Dan says, his voice serious. “Not ever. If this had happened five years ago, ten years ago…I should have fought for you, made you see that Chuck wasn’t the one who would make you happy, and maybe this would have never happened.”

“Stop,” Blair whispers softly, reaching up to place two fingers on his lips. “I don’t want to think about what may have been, or what might be in the future. If right now, this moment, is all I get, that’s what I’ll take.” She’s telling the truth. She can live with this. It’s better than continuing on in the darkness. It’s better than living with the ghosts of what might have been. 

Dan’s lips meet hers in a crushing kiss and he pulls her to him, toppling them both backwards as their legs intertwine and all thoughts leave Blair’s head except that she must commit this night to memory because it’s all she’s ever going to have.

*-*-*

Blair loves the smell of dirt and rain. She smells it again the next day as she watches Dan walk out of her apartment. She is leaning on the doorjamb wearing only a silk robe, her arms twined around his neck, kissing him and kissing him like he’s the very air she needs to breathe. Then he walks down the hallway, never looking back once, and Blair feels her heart break all over again, but this time it’s different. At least this time she knows what she wants even if she can’t ever have it. At least this time her choice is a real choice.


	2. Serena

There’s something bothering her, something feels off. Nothing is screaming that something is wrong, it’s quite, small, nipping at the edges of her consciousness, and Serena can’t quite figure out why things feel a little uneasy. She tilts her head to look across the taxi at her husband who is gazing out the window as they head to the Van Der Woodsen apartment. 

“The kids Skyped with me before I came to the airport,” Serena says into the silence. “Atticus had been out surfing and Daisy was immersed in the work the school sent her to prepare her for classes in a couple weeks.”

Serena isn’t sure if Dan has even heard her. He keeps staring out the window. She swallows, thinking that maybe he’s tired from the conference, jet lagged, and all he needs is a good night sleep. The silence fills the taxi again and Serena feels vaguely uncomfortable, so she tries to think of something to say to fill that void. She had already asked about the conference, and were they going to option his book as they walked side by side down the concourse. She had told him that the movers would be at the house in LA to pick up their boxes in two weeks when the kids come out while they waited for his suitcase at the carousel. She’d mentioned that the kids were not sure how they were going to fit in, being California West Coast kids as they walked through the parking garage towards the taxi pick-up. She told him that Eric was doing pretty good with watching them as they slid into the back seat and she gave the driver the address.

“Oh!” Serena says suddenly, something popping into her head that she’d kept trying to remember to tell Dan when she saw him after he came back from Paris, “you would never guess who I saw a couple days ago. I was coming out of Barney’s and we just ran into each other. Totally random.”

She thought he might turn his head and ask her out of curiosity who she ran into but Dan continues to gaze out the window, and she thinks he’s not really listening.

“Blair!” Serena blurts out. “Blair Waldorf, I mean I guess she’s been Blair Bass for a while now. After all these years, there she was on the sidewalk. Can you believe it?”

Dan turns to look at her and the uneasiness is still there. His face is unreadable in the darkness of the tax, only illuminated by the street lights as they flash by, and for a moment she thinks she sees something pain in his eyes but then they’re back in the darkness and she thinks she must be wrong. 

“Blair?” he says sounding a little tense, or tired. Serena can’t quite identify the tone. “You ran into Blair?”

“Crazy, huh?” Serena answers. “I told her we’re moving back. We really should try to see her and Chuck when things settle down. I mean, if Chuck is around. She said he’s away on business a lot.”

She feels like she’s chattering nervously, which is strange because this is her husband. They’ve been married for over ten years and have 9 year old twins. Why is she feeling so on edge around him? Finally Serena just asks if he’s okay. Dan gazes at her and then he smiles one of his familiar smiles and Serena feels herself relax a little. He’s tired, he tells her. Travel never really agrees with him anyway and the conference was more intense than he expected. Serena reaches across the seat to place her hand on his thigh, rubbing it briefly. The kids won’t be coming for a few more days, she tells him. They can relax and he can get caught up on sleep. Dan takes her hand in his and leans towards her, placing a kiss softly on her cheek.

“I love you,” he says, “You know that, right?”

The unease flickers again as Dan watches her. She pushes the feeling aside and nods her head.

“Of course, darling.” she says. Of course she knows he loves her. She’s never doubted it. 

They arrive at the Van Der Woodsen apartment. Lily and Rufus are in Burgundy and will be there until after the crush and had said that Dan and Serena could use their apartment until they found their own place. Serena thinks that it feels both familiar and strange as the elevator doors open. The entire apartment has been redecorated recently and it’s been updated. Rufus had a couple of the guest rooms converted into a recording studio. Lily had worked with one of New York’s up and coming designers to give the whole place an updated feel. But it was also still the place she had grown up so there are things about the space that still feel like home. 

“I put all our stuff away,” Serena says as Dan deposits his carry-on and suitcase in the entryway, “we’re using Lily and Rufus’ bedroom and the kids will be in the mine and Eric’s old rooms. Funny, coming back here to live after all these years, huh?”

Dan looks at her and doesn’t answer. He just looks at her, his eyes taking in her face, then walks forward and takes her face in both his hands, cradling it, and places a soft kiss on her lips then pulls back, still looking at her. Serena blinks in surprise and watches him. 

“I’m sorry, Serena,” Dan starts. “I...I just...I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Serena whispers. “It’s really okay. You’re tired. It’s been a long day for you and I’ve been bothering you by prattling on about all sorts of things.”

His mouth opens as if to say something then closes again, looking at her. Then he agrees with her. 

“Yeah. Tired.”

“A good night’s sleep. That’s what you need. It will all feel better in the morning. He smiles, a wry little twist of his mouth as if she’s said something unbelievable. Serena reaches out and smooths an unruly curl from his forehead. “Just some sleep. It’s going to be okay.”

Everything is better in the morning. The sun is shining brightly and Serena wakes to the smell of waffles. She stretches out her hand and the other side of the bed is smooth and unwrinkled. Dan had told her that despite being tired, he needed to send a quick email to his editor so Serena and crawled into bed and thanked the universe that her mother has amazing taste in linens as she sank into the soft, comfortable bed. Now she realizes that the other side has been left undisturbed overnight. Serena frowns a little then the smell of waffles wafts stronger and whatever had been bothering her slips away. 

“I thought since we were back in New York I’d make a classic Humphrey breakfast,” Dan says to her as she pads barefoot into the kitchen. Serena wraps her arms around Dan’s waist and plants a swift kiss on his unshaven, stubbly cheek. 

“You didn’t come to bed last night,” Serena says as she breaks off a piece of warm waffle and shoves it in her mouth. Dan startles a little then smiles, a little forced. 

“I ended up working later than I thought.”

“The realtor is meeting me this morning,” Serena says, chewing, accepting Dan’s explanation. “Then I’m going to see the my office at the magazine.”

She was going to become the editor of a mid-level fashion magazine. That’s why she and Dan were moving back to the city with the kids. It wasn’t Vogue but it was a step towards Vogue. Serena had been making a name for herself in the fashion industry in L.A. and now it was time for her to conquer the East Coast as well. 

Dan tells her he’s going to hit up a few bookstores. Serena says she’ll see him around dinner time and heads back to their room to shower and get ready for the day. As she showers, rubbing shampoo in her hair, she thinks of how amazing her life is. Nothing could be better. 

The weeks goes by in a blur, busy with new job things and getting ready for the move. Dan is preoccupied, and Serena thinks he might be worried about his next book. He always gets a little moody when he’s starting on a new idea. He stays up late and more often than not she ends up sleeping alone. She tells him that she’s happy to get stretch out, but she wishes he wouldn’t work so hard, and anyway he’s missing out on Lily and Rufus’ fantastic bed. He smiles at her and for a moment Serena thinks his smile looks strangely sad. She can’t quite put her finger on it. Maybe it’s about the move, leaving their friends in California. 

That’s when Serena gets the idea. The kids are coming in a couple days and they’ve found a place to live. Serena is getting more settle into her job, her desk is set up how she likes it, she’s been attending meetings and she notices less curious eyes following her as she dashes around the office. She knows Dan has given up his friends, his writing buddies, who used to go out weekly for drinks in a local dive bar where they discuss literature, their projects and who the L.A. Times has lambasted in the recent week. He must miss that, so she decides they need to start finding some friends in New York, or maybe reconnect with some old ones. 

She starts with Nate, taking a break from work to walk to the office of the Spectator. When she’s ushered into his office, Nate leaps up and pulls her into a huge hug.

“S!” he exclaims, “When they told me who was here, I didn’t believe it, but look, it’s you!”

Nate is tanned and handsome as ever, dressed in a well-tailored business suit, and Serena’s eye for fashion tells her it’s custom made and very expensive. He’s not wearing a tie and the white dress shirt underneath is open at the collar. Serena thinks that Nate should be the one in California, not her and Dan, with his bright white smile and blond hair. 

He sits in one of the chairs opposite his desk and motions for Serena to sit next to him.

“It’s been what, ten years?” Nate says, and he looks like he can’t stop smiling. “You look amazing Serena, I mean you always have, but L.A. seems to agree with you. His eyes glance down at her left hand at her wedding ring, then back to her face. “And Dan? I saw his book came out and they might be optioning it.”

“We’re waiting to hear. He met with someone from the studio during a conference in Paris but they seem to be dragging their feet.”

“And you. What are you up to?”

Serena smiles. “We’re moving back!”

Nate is genuinely excited about her news. He tells her she’s going to slip right back into the scene with no problem, but he’ll also make sure she gets some party invites to help her along. They talk for a little while longer, Serena telling Nate about the twins, Nate telling her that he is currently living the bachelor life, which he said consisted more of working his ass off managing The Spectator with little time for dating or anything else. He said he still plays squash at the club. Serena is enjoying talking to him when she remembers why she made this visit.

“Hey,” she says to Nate, tilting her head, smiling a genuinely warm smile, they kind where her eyes crinkle and is usually followed by a laugh, “I was wondering if you want to come over for dinner. We have a couple more nights before the kids arrive and everything gets crazy with settling into our new place, starting school, etcetera. Dan is missing L.A. and I was thinking he’d love to see an old friend.”

Nate is all apologies when he tells her he can’t. He’s flying to Washington D.C. the next day to meet with some journalists about a story, but maybe when he gets back. Serena says they should get together for sure, stands up and hugs her friend goodbye.

“I’ve really missed you, S.” Nate says as he embraces her. Serena realizes that he’s missed him too. She thinks that moving back to New York is going to be okay. 

That night she tells Dan all about seeing Nate.

“Really?” he says, “you just dropped in.”

“You know me,” Serena says, taking a sip of red wine. A case from Burgundy had arrived that morning, spoils from Lily and Rufus’ ongoing trip, and she had decided she needed to make sure it was good. It was very, very good and Serena licked her lips. She noticed Dan watching her and normally the act of Serena licking wine off her lips would elicit a dirty comment of some sort, but he seems like he’s far away, not really seeing her. The uneasiness returns but Serena pushes it down and takes another sip. “I thought he could come for dinner, you two could geek out over some new writer or politics or something else that you love to talk about. It would be fun!”

“Yeah,” Dan says, still sounding a little distracted, “that sounds good.” he goes back to preparing dinner as she continues to tell him about seeing Nate. As she’s talking Serena regrets that it didn’t work for Nate to join them for dinner, then another idea pops into her head and she thinks it might just work out. 

“I know,” Serena says, “I should see if my assistant can track down Blair’s number. Maybe she can come over for dinner tomorrow night or the next.”

The knife Dan’s been using clatters onto the marble counter, making a sharp, startling noise that almost causes Serena to startle. His back has been turned to her while chopping the vegetables for the salad he’d planned for dinner and she can see it stiffen. 

“No,” he says spits out, the intensity of the word making the hair on the back of Serena’s neck stand up. The entire mood has shifted with such suddenness Serena feels like her head is spinning a little. Seconds ago they had been chatting about her day and now Serena feels tension creeping up her body.

“Dan?” Serena says, her tone apprehensive. “What’s going on?” She quickly tries to make sense of what’s happening, feeling confused and off kilter. Is he sick, having a heart attack, does she need to call 911. Dan turns around to face her and Serena almost jumps at the look on his face. It’s full of pain and sorrow and guilt, and she feels afraid and wants to reach out to him all at the same time.

“Not Blair,” he says quietly and with so much hurt. Serena’s confusion lingers for a few long seconds more as she tries to make sense of what he’s saying. Not Blair. Why not Blair. Why is her husband looking at her like that.

“I’m sorry,” Dan says, and the words sound like they’re being ripped out of somewhere deep inside of him. What is he sorry for, why is he saying he’s sorry, and then slowly Serena starts to feel understanding grip her as he looks at her, saying nothing, just staring at her and she feels hot and cold all at once and this can’t be happening to her, not her. 

“I can’t. I can’t do this.”

He means them. He can’t do this. Serena, the kids. Serena feels a sob building at the base of her throat and tears sting her eyes. 

She has the perfect life, the perfect marriage, except the way Dan is looking at her, none of that is true anymore. All of it hangs in the balance. And that’s the moment Serena realizes that she should have been paying more attention to that nagging feeling that something was off, that vague discomfort that’s been telling her something was wrong. Something is indeed very wrong.


	3. Serena Cont...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Serena is rightfully upset.

Serena crouches on the kitchen floor staring at her hand. Dan is still standing in the same place, saying her name but she can’t even look at him. Her hand is shaking and there’s blood on it. She keeps picking of the pieces of the wine glass she’d been holding in her hand mere seconds ago, sobbing and she searches the floor for the pieces, as if picking up those shards of glass that had shattered across the kitchen floor is the most important thing in the entire world. 

“Serena,” Dan says again, “You don’t need to do this,” and now he’s crouching next to her, hand reaching out, fingers circling her wrist gently and she jerks away, continuing to scan the floor, gathering the pieces of glass into her hand, ignoring the blood dripping from the cut on one of her fingers, leaving bright round crimson splashes on the white marble kitchen floor. She stands up and searches the kitchen for the garbage can. She should know where it is but she doesn’t, pulling open cabinets, peering in each one, not looking at her husband who is standing just behind her. 

“No,” Serena mutters over and over as she searches. This cannot be happening. She finally finds the garbage compactor, neatly hidden in a pull-out drawer, and she deposits the shards in there then turns to find Dan still standing there, watching her, eyes searching her face, and they say nothing, just stand in her mother’s kitchen, silence filling the space that stretches between them. 

Serena wraps her arms around her shoulders and wishes she could stop shaking. Looking back on this moment, Serena will never know how she managed to stay standing. Every part of her wants to collapse onto the floor, but somehow she manages to stay there, looking at the man who has destroyed her life with one look.

“Blair?” she asks, her voice sounding rough and strange. She can barely say her former friend’s name and Serena feels like such a fool. When she saw Blair the other day she was so happy and filled with excitement about what was in front of them. Now looking back on the encounter she realizes that Blair hadn’t returned her smile entirely, hadn’t seemed as excited to see her, and Serena had chalked it up to fifteen years of not being friends, hoping to reconnect. Now she wonders if it was because Blair was fucking her husband. 

“I’m sorry,” Dan says, reaching out to touch her. Serena steps back, holding up her hand to tell Dan that he cannot speak. He is not allowed to touch her. Not allowed to offer comfort. He lost that privilege when he looked at her with betrayal in his eyes, when he said her name with such anguish. His hand falls to his side because he understands that Serena is making the rules right now.

“How long?” she asks, not really wanting to hear the answer. Had they been meeting behind her back? Were his trips to New York really trysts in high-end motels, fucking his married mistress. When he was home with her and the kids was it all a carefully constructed act in a play where he was a loving husband and doting father? Was the entire life they had crafted in California a lie?

“Once,” Dan grits out, “Just once. In Paris. I didn’t mean for it, I mean I never thought…”

“Shut up. Just shut up,” Serena spits out. “You fucked her. You meant to fuck her.”

Serena is right and Dan looks away at her words, no longer able to meet her eyes. She wonders what is going through his mind right now. Is he filled with crushing guilt over betraying his wife and kids, or is he remembering fucking her, the way he felt inside her, and Serena feels nausea climb up her stomach and wonders if she should throw up in the now-discovered trash compactor or the sink. 

“I love you, S.” Dan says softly, staring at a spot on the marble counter, still unable to meet her gaze. “I never thought anything was wrong, until…”

“Fuck you!” Serena hisses, interrupting. “Nothing was wrong...nothing IS wrong. You put your dick in a warm place. You couldn’t control yourself, you…”

“No,” Dan says sharply, looking at her again. “No,” he repeats, “it’s not like that. It’s…”

Serena is filled with horror as she realizes what Dan is saying. 

“Don’t you fucking say you love her,” she says forcefully, although she knows the truth of her words as they come out of her mouth. “This is about betrayal, not about love. You are not allowed to love her.” 

There are many ways to betray your spouse and Dan has chosen the most egregious. His face falls at her her words, shoulders slump, and she knows she’s come to the truth. After all these years, her husband is telling her he made a mistake. Their life together is based on a mistake. 

“I love you,” Dan says again, sounding like an afterthought. As if it matters. As if it can make things better. He loves her, but he doesn’t. Not enough to walk away from Blair Waldorf. Not enough to not kiss her, fuck her. Not enough to have the life he’s built with Serena mean more than the past, even if it means giving up the past one more time. Years ago he’d chosen Serena over Blair. Now he’s choosing Blair over everything.

“You just love her more,” Serena observes blandly. Her hand is still bleeding but she’s not shaking anymore. Her hands hang limply by her sides. Dan’s face twists with her words. She can tell he wants to protest, wants to tell her that she doesn’t speak the truth, but Dan Humphrey doesn’t lie, which is why he’s been avoiding her for the last week and a half, which is why he doesn’t contradict her. “You are a selfish bastard.”

Dan puts his head in his hands as if he doesn’t know what to do, where to go, and Serena might pity him for the mess he’s created, except she doesn’t. 

“Goddamnit Dan,” Serena says quietly and she can finally feel the tears starting, rolling down her cheeks. “The kids are coming in a couple days. What do we tell them? Did you think about what this would do with them when you were fucking Blair Waldorf? Did you? They’re kids. They love their parents. This...what you’ve done...destroying their family….. You are a self-absorbed asshole, Dan Humphrey.”

Her words hit home because Serena sees his eyes are glassy with tears. He rubs a hand through his hair, glancing around like someone caught in a trap he can’t get out of. The kids, who are still sleeping in their beds in California where the sun still hasn’t peeked over the horizon. The kids, looking forward to seeing their parents, to starting a new school and a new life in New York. Serena has been talking to them every night, telling them about all the wonderful things they can do in New York. The museums, the parks. She’s told them about snow and Christmas and how the city lights up with decorations. And now they will start a new life with their parents separated, with betrayal, not love at the center of their family. If what they have suddenly become can even be called family anymore.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, and it sounds so pathetic, so small in front of the enormity they face. Is he going to tell the twins that he’s sorry, apologize for throwing away their family for a college fling from over a decade ago. 

“Was it worth it?” Serena asks. “Destroying all of this, us, for one night?” Dan doesn't answer but the look on his face is all she needs. The nausea is back and time Serena does vomit, running to the sink, heaving the contents of her stomach, mostly wine, into the basin, and she feels Dan behind her, holding back her long hair, his fingers on her back, and she wants to scream. She jerks around and pushes him away from her. 

“Get out,” Serena says quietly, her voice barely a whisper, wishing her pain mattered, wishing she could hurt enough that Dan would take everything back and they could pretend this never happened. But she knows Dan and he can’t live a lie, even if telling the truth is the equivalent of setting off an emotional atom bomb. Fucking honorable Dan Humphrey, always trying to do what he thinks is the right thing, even when he’s the one who has destroyed everything in the first place. 

“Just get out. Leave me alone and get OUT!” Serena screams the last word, wanting to make her voice loud enough to hurt, loud enough to be taken seriously. Her hands are clenched tightly, nails pressed into her palms, and she wonders if she’ll make herself bleed more. Then she thinks that bleeding from a cut is nothing compared to the way her husband has just ripped her open. 

“Where do I go?” Dan asks, and Serena wants to slap him. 

“I don’t fucking care,” She says, and the sobbing is back. She presses her back to the counter and feels her legs start to fold underneath her. Slowly she slides down the the ground, back against the cabinet, staring at the blood on her hand that has started to congeal and dry. “Just go.”


	4. Chuck

“He won’t leave Serena?”

She runs a hand through her hair, looking genuinely distressed. 

“God, I don’t know. I really dont. It’s...complicated and I haven’t even talked to him since Paris, and he’s not like us Chuck. He doesn’t play games and put on a different face for the world. He loves her and they have kids. I just...I just can’t live this way anymore, even if I don’t have him. I can’t lie to myself and the world. I have to be who I’m meant to be, and it’s become clear that I’m not meant to be your wife anymore. I can’t stay here, stay married to you. I want out, no matter what the consequence.”

She stops talking, almost breathless and watches his face, looking for his response to her words. Chuck thinks for a long moment, his gaze locked with Blair’s.

“Okay.” he says,.

“Okay?” she echoes. 

“Okay. You can get out. And Henry can go with you. I just want to see him now and then, maybe at Christmas, or over the summer. He’s still my son and he’s still the heir to the Bass fortune.”

Blair makes a strangled gasping sound and then she’s laughing and crying, throwing herself at him, wrapping her arms around him and Chuck holds her tightly one last time.


	5. Dan

They meet for coffee.

Dan gets there early and he's sitting in Starbucks of all the absurd places, but that was where Blair agreed to meet him, and after two weeks of her refusing to take his phone calls or answer his texts, Dan will take what he can get. He's sitting at a table when she walks in and he has a moment before she sees him. Dan takes full advantage, taking in her hair, her face, the small furrow between her eyes as she looks for him, the way she's biting her lip. Then her eyes find his and he smiles at her, a short, tentative greeting and he's rewarded with a big smile back. Dan feels some of the tension he's been holding slip away.

Blair gets her order then comes over to the table. Dan stands when she approaches then leans in to hug her, their arms going around each other awkwardly. It was as if they are strangers, not like they'd been fucking in a Paris apartment not long ago. Dan kisses Blair on the cheek, lightly, leaving barely and imprint. He likes the feel of her cheek against his lips. He sits back down on the bench then scoots over in surprise when Blair slides in next to him, her thigh pressing along the length of his. Dan takes in a shuddering breath as all the wanting and needing he'd felt in Paris comes crashing in. Blair looks at him sideways and her fingers curl around the white paper cup and she smiles again, but this time it's tentative, even a little shy. Dan feels his heart beating in his chest.

"So," Blair says.

"So," Dan echoes her, awkwardly, pushing down his desire. There is too much between them and the least of it is the way she lights up his skin and makes him feel like he wants to crawl out of it.

He fidgets with the half-eaten pastry that's sitting on a napkin that's splotched with oil and crumbs. He mentions the weather, noting that fall is truly coming and the leaves are turning. Blair says she loves fall. He asks if she's seen any movies lately. She tells him she has a lot on her mind these days. There's pain in her eyes as she talks and he wants so badly to reach out and touch her, smooth her hair, try to take it away.

Finally Blair takes the plunge, inhaling a deep breath as she brings up one of the one million things they're busy talking around instead of talking about.

"How's Serena?"

Dan has been alone for the last month, living without his family, but also alone with no one to talk to. Serena barely speaks to him, answering his questions with short, clipped sentences, always seeming like she just wants the conversation to be over. Rufus had been upfront with Dan and told him that he didn't understand how he could do this to his family and even though his dad had told him he stood by him always, Dan knew he couldn't count on his support right now. Jenny was in Milan working on a grant, which is why Dan had been able to go back to the old loft, but she was also busy and with the time change, he couldn't pour his heart out to her.

Now Blair was asking him how things were and it was a painful kind of release when he realized that he could actually tell her. Dan sags a little at her words and he finally reaches out to take her hand. Blair startles a little at his touch then her hand relaxes in his.

"It's awful, Blair. So awful. She's so hurt," as he speaks Dan can picture Serena's eyes, filled with accusation and pain, the way she looks at him with hatred now, "I never, I didn't know, I just…"

He never meant to hurt her. Dan can't say the words because they're so deeply inadequate and they don't recognize that at any moment in all of this Dan could have made a different choice. Surely fucking another woman would hurt his wife, and Dan wasn't the type if person to do something like that casually, and he had known from the moment that he turned and saw Blair Waldorf standing in the street, soaking wet, saying his name, that everything he'd known to be true was actually a lie. He's not sure if he'd expected things could end up differently than they have. It still didn't mean that the woman he'd spent the last fifteen years with, the woman he'd built a life with and made a family wasn't facing the greatest betrayal of her life because of him. None of it felt right but all of it felt inevitable.

"I know," Blair says softly, her thumb gently stroking the top of his hand, back and forth, and Dan focuses on her touch and how it keeps him anchored as he floats in a sea of misery. "I hate this too. All of it."

If only they'd made a different choice years ago.

"Chuck?" Dan asks. Blair laughs, a wry little sound, almost an 'aha'.

"Surprisingly good," she says, "now that we're telling the truth and we're not busy trying to control each other, he's actually not a bad person to partner with. We have Henry to take care of, although since Chuck is back in Dubai, I don't think we'll see each other until around Christmas."

"And Henry?" Dan asks. Blair smiles and this time it reaches her eyes.

"Looking forward to Paris," she tells him. "We leave in six months. Part of Chuck's terms. I have to stick around and play my part for just a little longer."

"Maybe someday he and the twins can meet," Dan muses, taking a drink of his now warm coffee, allowing himself to briefly think of tomorrow, or the next month, or the next year, of a house full of kids and laughter, him, Blair and for a second he feels happy about what the future might hold. He glances over at Blair and Blair gives him a sad, tired look.

"Oh Dan," she sighs, "I don't think so."

That's the moment Dan knows this is not a reunion. This is a goodbye.

Blair is looking at him, searching her face, her eyes starting to shine with tears that haven't reached her cheeks quite yet. They look at each other in silence, and if this is goodbye, if this is over before it's even started, Dan knows what has to happen next. He knows what he needs. The mood between them shifts abruptly and Blair is moving closer to him, pressing into him, her hand squeezing his, and Dan shudders.

"Oh, god," he says under his breath.

"You're staying at the loft?" Blair's voice is heavy, barely a whisper. He nods and wonders if he'll be able to make it to the loft based on the heat growing in the pit of his stomach, in his groin. He wants her. He wants her now.

"Yes,"

"Take me there," Blair says softly, like saying the words hurts. Dan nods.

They stand up, both of them moving slowly as if in a daze, throwing away the half-eaten pastry and half-drunk coffee, Blair gripping his hand, wrapping herself around his waist, head buried in his shoulder and Dan doesn't want to lose that connection, can't stop touching her, brushing her hip, twining his fingers with hers, an arm around her shoulder. They stay like that while he hails a cab, only breaking apart to crawl into the back seat and immediately their hands find each other.

He can't stop looking at her as they sit in the back of the cab on the way to the loft, memorizing her face, imprinting it inti his memory. It's the kind of intense gaze that would normally make someone turn away but Blair returns it, her eyes never leaving his, and they sit like that, hands joined, in silence.

Blair smiles when he opens the door to the loft and murmurs something about how familiar everything feels, and Dan isn't listening because the minute they step through the doorway he's smoothing back her hair and and bending to kiss her neck, and Blair doesn't spend any more time with her memories because she's gasping at the touch of his lips. He makes his way down the column of her neck and pushes aside her blouse to place a kiss just above the line of her clavicle.

This isn't Paris. It's not fast or dirty or illicit. Dan doesn't really know what it is. In a way it's coming home, his fingers remembering things about about Blair's body, slipping under the hem of her blouse, tracing across her ribs, tracing a path of futility, kissing all those secret spots, the inside of her elbow, each knuckle on her hand. It's saying goodbye without words. And the worst part is that none of it matters.

Blair watches him as she leans her weight against the door of the loft, her eyelids heavy, her lips parted wantonly, her breathing hitching with every touch of his lips.

"Dan," she whispers. "Please."

In another situation he might have teased her, feigned ignorance, pretended he didn't know what she was asking, made her playfully beg for his next touch or next kiss. She might have laughed at him, pretending to push him away. There is nothing playful about what she is asking. Her tone is edged with desperation.

"Yes," Dan hisses as he starts to unbutton her blouse, slowly, his eyes watching as it falls away and she's wearing an entirely typical Blair Waldorf piece of lingerie; black, lacy, expensive. He stops for a moment when he finishes with the last button and stares at her, then he unclips the front clasp and her breasts are exposed, nipples hard, her skin flushed.

"Beautiful." Dan says, not realizing he's spoken out loud. Under other circumstances he might have been embarrassed at accidentally revealing what's running through his head but right now he doesn't care.

"Yes," Blair agrees and she is looking at him, taking in his face. Dan wants to blush but instead he reaches out and starts to touch her breasts with his hands, grazing her nipples with his thumbs and Blair gasps.

"You're mine," Dan whispers. It's a lie. He knows that if Blair is indeed his, it's only for tonight and the morning is going to bring a harsh reality. He says it anyway because he wants it to be true.

"And you are mine," Blair answers, leaning forward, pressing herself along his length, her arms going around his neck, her face tilting up towards his and finally, finally their lips meet and that's when everything breaks loose. Dan is kissing her and kissing her and kissing her some more, hard and wet and desperate, and he realizes that part of the wetness is not just their hot, sloppy mouths with tongues tangling but the tears that are on both their cheeks.

He would finish it there, push up her skirt and slam into her, hard and fast, but this isn't going to be one of those nights. No matter how tight and wound up he feels, this, Blair, requires pacing and patience, and he's not 18 anymore and he can make it last. Somehow they end up in his old bed, tangled, pressed against each other, their clothing on the floor and when the time is right Blair flips him over, straddles him and swiftly takes him inside her and she rides him, striking a fast, desperate rhythm and when he comes, bucking his hips, screwing up his face, letting out a massive groan of pleasure that comes from his very core, her eyes never leave his. Moments later she comes as well and she collapses on his chest, their skin sticky and sweaty and the whole room has the delightful stink of sex.

"I love you," Blair gasps as Dan strokes her hair and thinks that he's not sure if he's ever seen anything to fucked up. Blair is crying again and pulls out of her and he rolls over, in one swift motion, cradling her in his arms, kissing the tears that are rolling down her cheeks, wanting none of this to be real.

"Will you go back to her?" Blair asks as she sniffs a little.

"Serena?" Dan asks, a little surprised at the question. "No. She's not an option anymore. She wasn't the moment I saw you in Paris."

"Even for the kids?" Blair asks and Dan's heart clenches at her question and the magnitude of what he's done hits him once again. His kids have a broken home, not because he couldn't keep his dick in his pants but because he let the one person he'd ever truly love go fifteen years ago. He wonders if he'll ever stop paying for that mistake.

"She wouldn't have me, even for the kids." Dan says, gazing at a picture on the wall but not really seeing it, "some cuts are too deep, and I can't live a lie, even for them."

Blair looks at him, studying him, and her fingers are tracing patterns across his chest. Evening sun is blaring through the loft's western facing windows, lighting her hair, making it seem redder than usual.

"That's kind of selfish," Blair says. Dan winces at her bluntness. He doesn't like to hear it but he also knows she's right.

"I guess so," he says. "I don't know if any of this has an easy answer."

"No," Blair says, placing a kiss on his shoulder, "Neither do I."

They have the rest of the evening and all night. Dan orders pizza. Blair grabs one of his old shirts and sits on the couch cross-legged while they debate the merits of seventies film noir and it feels a little like the old Dan and Blair. Dan finds a decent bottle of wine Jenny had left and they drink enough to almost forget what will happen in the morning. They fuck. On the couch. In the bed. Fast and hard. Slow and sweet. They memorize each other because it's going to be all they have after tonight. They sleep a little, collapsed in each others arms, sated and heavy with post-sex exhaustion. They enjoy waking up together.

"You'll have to go in the morning?" Dan asks as the darkness starts to turn grey with the morning light. Blair nods then buries her head into his chest as if looking at him hurts.

"I gave Chuck six months. I promised him I wouldn't carry on with you during that time, to make things look right. Plus, we just can't. We can't…."

Dan knows she's right as much as he wants things to be different. There is nothing left for them but goodbye.

"Well then, I think we need to continue our marathon of sex," Dan says, his voice strained even as he tries to make it light. "I'm going to need this to get through."

Blair gazes at him, her face serious.

"Me too," she says.

Dan wakes up to an empty bed and the late morning sun. He stretches a little, feeling all his muscles and the ache that comes from a night if great sex. He reaches for Blair and finds that the space next to him is empty. He could get up and look for her in the bathroom or pretend she's making breakfast in the kitchen but Dan knows he'd be lying to himself in order to delay the inevitable. Blair has slipped out quietly, not waking him.

He finds a note on the table next to the bed and recognizes the paper from the pad Jenny keeps by the phone. On it, in Blair's sloppy scrawl is one sentence.

_I'll love you forever._

Dan holds the note in his hand and turns on his side, curling as if he can protect himself from the pain that washed over him. The sheets smell like sex and Blair and if he closed his eyes he can pretend for a littke while longer that she's still there. He knew this was coming but that doesn't make the hurt that grips him any less bearable. For the first time but not the last he wishes that Blair loving him and him loving Blair could be enough while at the same time knowing it never can be. And he knows that no matter what the future brings, nothing will change the fact that Dan will love her forever too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not entirely convinced this story is done, but this is where this part ends for now. And writing this killed me. Thank you as always for reading. Dair forever.


End file.
